


A Little Bit Genghis Khan

by OpalizedFossil



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Detailed sexual content, F/F, Feral Gems, Gem Egg Hell, Oviposition, Size Difference, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 00:35:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7486344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpalizedFossil/pseuds/OpalizedFossil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I get a little bit Genghis Khan<br/>I don't want you to get it on with<br/>Nobody else but me"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Bit Genghis Khan

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [Through the Ghost](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6895756)! This was requested multiple times on Tumblr, and I uploaded it here for the hell of it.

Yellowy grass billows beneath the touch of a warm breeze that carries with it the odor of blood, freshly spilled and distinctly heavy, an otherwise summery scene tainted by the cacophony of screams and cries that echo across the overgrown pasture, screeching sounds that only thinly veil the underlying chorus of rumbling snarls, closely accompanied by the tear of flesh, the crunch of bone, and something akin to the shatter of glass.

General Carnelian stands in the midst of the madness, her expression as solemn and stoic as ever as she allows her ax to materialize in her curled hand, a fist formed around its metallic handle tensely. She turns in a slow circle as she hears the telltale snarl behind her, searching desperately for the source of the sound, for something to betray its presence in the unfortunately overgrown grass, for even the twitch of a blade.

When the sound comes, it comes from behind her, and she was mere moments to swivel towards it before the bloodthirsty beast is upon her, mouth agape to expose row upon row of serrated teeth - terrible, terrible teeth. Instinctively, she readily raises her ax, teeth bared as she prepares to shatter her attacker - until the shimmer of the bluish swirl that encases its right eye catches her attention. Immediately, she surrenders her weapon to a flash of white, spreading her arms to capture her adversary in a warm embrace instead. It welcomes her touch without even the slightest struggle, hanging limply in her arms as it smiles softly.

Then, Carnelian exhales a shuddery sigh and waves towards the trainees that watch the scene unfold eagerly, bringing the simulation to an abrupt close.

Before Fossil’s feet meet the floor, the soft, warm touch of the billowy grass has faded back into the cold, hard tiles she knows so well, relinquishing the sounds and smells of the artificial battlefield with it. She starts to comment on the sudden chill of the metallic floor, when the touch of rough lips to the side of her face silences her. “Great job,” the familiar rumble of a voice whispers in her ear.

Fossil offers Carnelian a sideways glance, accompanied by the beginnings of the mischievous smile she’s so well-known for. “Was I scary enough, General?”

“Scary? You?” Carnelian scoffs as she rests an arm around her little lover’s waist, almost possessively, “You’re no scarier than a cub.”

“You sure?” Fossil teases with an arch of her brow, “You know, General, for a moment there, I thought you were really going to hit me.”

Carnelian swallows, then clears her throat. Fossil misinterprets it as anxiety - even the simulation must have been hard for her, after all - unaware of the danger she was earnestly in mere moments before. One impulsive strike of the quartz soldier’s ax would have shattered her immediately.

But, there’s no time for either to consider this, before the young quartz soldiers are crowded around them, eager to have their questions answered and to hear their commander’s wisdom. The trainees can’t resist the chance to tease their leader, however, and one of them immediately pipes up, “So, are all fossils this cuddly, boss?”

A rumble of laughter passes through the squadron of foolhardy youngsters, all amused at how flustered their commander tends to become when prompted about her relationship with Fossil. Carnelian has never outright told them what it is that she feels for the opalized gem, but the trainees have long since suspected that she’s fallen hard for her, unaware that the basis of their relationship is something far more carnal than love.

Often, Carnelian responds to their teases with a blush that becomes invisible on her burgundy hide, or an incredulous huff that insists that Fossil isn’t even her friend, much less her lover. After Fossil’s blatant refusal to leave the arena peacefully, Carnelian has decided to make better use of her energy, she informs them when their prodding, pesky questions refuse to cease, and use her for demonstrations that might save their lives someday, to which the troops will laugh knowingly. Today, however, Carnelian doesn’t answer them with an embarrassed flush of her face or an insistent rebuttal. Instead, she frowns and answers, in a voice disconcertingly stern, “No.”

But, Carnelian doesn’t stop here. “Fossils are war machines, girls. When one decides it wants to stalk you, cuddling it will be the least of your concerns. You better be prepared to shatter it, because you can bet your asses that it won’t hesitate to shatter you.”

Fossil tosses her a sideways glance, the smile so omnipresent on her delicate features suddenly vanishing.

“But, yours sure seems cute and cuddly, boss!” one of the trainees chuckles teasingly, unaware of the tension she’s caused.

“This one? Of course she is!” Carnelian almost laughs, “She’s not a real fossil!”

When General Carnelian turns towards the fossil for affirmation, she realizes that there are tears in her eyes, blossoming up from her depths and threatening to overspill before an audience of quartz trainees. Her ice blue irises waver as she opens her mouth wordlessly, then closes it once more, stunned silent.

“Oh, Fossil, c'mon,” Carnelian dismisses her with a wave of her hand, “You know I don’t mean you. We’ve been over this before. You’re not like them.”

Fossil shallows, then swipes a tongue over her suddenly dry lips pensively. “Oh, there’s a them now?”

The quartz soldier looks at her. “Fossil, don’t do this. Not in front of them. We can discuss it later.”

“I want to discuss it now,” the opalized gem informs her with a furrow of her brow, her eyes narrow, “Tell me again how I’m not a real fossil, General. Tell me how my entire species is the incarnation of everything evil and wrong with the war, how we were somehow worse than those rebel forces who invaded your camps and shattered your soldiers in the middle of the night. Tell me about the teeth and claws and all the ripping and tearing, and how I’m somehow responsible for it all, even though I’m not a real fossil!”

Before she finishes, her voice is a shout. The trainees watch on pensively as their commander turns towards her companion, hands raised defeatedly. “You’re right,” Carnelian tells her, more to silence her than to comfort her, “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

“You think sorry fixes it?!” Fossil almost bellows, and the venom is so strong in her voice now that it can only be called a snarl. Her hair bristles from the base of her neck to the center of her skull, one line standing up stiffly in a threateningly display her species has upheld from its primeval ancestry. “Everyday, it’s the same with you! I come in here to see you, and you rope me into some almighty, life-saving training technique for your overgrown cubs to gawk at, then insult my entire species before you push me away again! And for what, Car? What good does it do you? They’re gone!”

What Carnelian wants to tell her, when she’s able to form a coherent thought through the astonishment she feels at the fossil’s outburst, is that her trainees need to know how to avoid and combat her vicious, primeval cousins because Homeworld will undoubtedly manufacture them once more if a second rebellion ever arises, on earth or otherwise. But, she knows that there’s no way to form the words in a way that won’t offend her further - and, clearly, she has done damage well enough.

“They’re gone, Carnelian,” Fossil repeats, the venom her voice held moments prior dwindling down into a choked sob as the tears start to fall, promptly wiped away by her slender fingers, “but, I’m still here…and I’m not a monster…we’re not monsters…”

Carnelian searches for a response, but has none.

“There is no them. There is no me. There’s only us. I’m them, and they’re me, and I’ve been coming here everyday, in hopes that I’ll be able to help you understand that…,” Fossil tells her in a softer voice, the undertones of hurt all too evident, “I don’t know why I even bother. You’re never going to forgive us for what happened to your mate, no matter how hard I try. You’ll never change. Not even for me.”

As she ceases to conceal her sobs, the quartz soldier clears her throat and waves a hand towards her trainees. “Dismissed,” she orders them quietly, sternly, in a way that they know better than to disobey. The squadron slinks away in uneasy silence, until only General Carnelian and her fossil remain.

“I…,” Carnelian starts, but Fossil is in no mood to hear it. She raises a hand to silence her, then starts towards the door, pausing only to glance over her shoulder with what can only be budding resentment in her watery gaze.

“Wait,” the quartz soldier murmurs helplessly as her lover walks away, surprised when she does heed her request and halts in the door.

“You’re coming, too,” Fossil informs her quietly, then waits for her to follow before she vanishes into the hall. Their footsteps echo across the empty corridor as she leads them to the warp pad that awaits at its apex, warping them elsewhere in headquarters. When the world around them materializes once more, it is in a sector that General Carnelian has never seen before, somewhere within the bowels of the tower, far from the place where her own private quarters are located.

“Where are we?” she questions her suspiciously. Fossil doesn’t answer her; instead, she slinks down the street with her shoulders ever so slightly raised and her head held low - submissive body language, the quartz soldier notes curiously. When she hears footsteps nearby, she stiffens noticeably.

Carnelian recognizes the pattern of footfalls as that of a large, bulky quartz - a jasper, an amethyst, or a fellow carnelian, possibly. Instead, she’s surprised when the silhouette materializes into what is undoubtedly a bloodstone, with her distinctive coloration of garbled green and rusty red - covered from head-to-toe in metallic armor that she hasn’t seen in use since the days of the war. It seems excessive - until she notices the bulky plates that guard the underside of her throat, laden with steel spikes that protrude several inches outward, and immediately realizes where Fossil has brought her.

Fossil scales a flight of crumbly, stone stairs - something the upper floors of the tower hadn’t seen in a hundred thousand years - and leads her to the crest of a structure from which she can see the scene that unfolds below.

Concealed somewhere within the depths of headquarters is the fossil den, where the two hundred or so of them that remain in circulation live quietly en mass. Whereas General Carnelian and each of her valuable trainees have their own private quarters, the fossils are housed in a single location, permitted to leave only to visit their labs upstairs or to board ships for interplanetary missions. Nonetheless, the gems seem happy, socializing peacefully.

Except for one.

Carnelian notices a single, solitary fossil huddled in the far corner of the plaza. Even from afar, she can see that it’s trembling. She opens her mouth to inquire what’s wrong with it, when it turns its head so that she can see the terrible, metallic cage that imprisons the better half of its face, steel bars interlaced with black leather that binds tightly at the base of its neck.

It’s a muzzle.

“Welcome home,” Fossil whispers coldly as she stares down at the scene, “and remember, no fangs.”

Carnelian looks at her. “No fangs?”

Fossil glances at her sternly. “You only bite once.”

The quartz soldier looks towards the muzzled fossil in the corner worriedly.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re only playing, or if you’re protecting yourself, or if you’re trying to stop the guards from hurting your cubs,” Fossil laments, “One bite, and you’ll wear the muzzle the rest of your life. And the rest of us, we won’t socialize with you. We won’t play with you, groom you, cuddle you…the moment you bite, you’re an outsider. Because no fangs, that’s the rule. No fangs, no fangs…from day one, they pound that into our heads, until it’s everything we know…”

Fossil narrows her eyes at her scornfully. “You’re a commander, General. You’re in charge of quartz soldiers, who want your wisdom, your advice, your guidance. You watch over them and tell them all you know. Me, I’m an alpha. You and I, we’re not so different. Everything you do for your quartz cubs, I do for my pack. And what wisdom can I ever give them, when this is all we’ll ever be, thanks to gems like you.”

Carnelian flinches. “I…I didn’t know you were an alpha fossil.”

“Of course I’m an alpha fossil,” she retorts, “Look at me. I’m bigger than the others, and I had the fortune that I was created opalized. I have something none of the others do. I’m a pretty piece of eye candy, aren’t I? That’s why you like me, isn’t it, General? I’m a nice, warm, attractive hole to stick it in. I’m a trophy, a novelty. Because I happened to be born different, and that automatically made me superior.”

She exhales into the musky air, then starts towards the stairs. “But, really, an alpha means nothing down here. Bloodstone’s the real alpha, the one who controls when we can leave and where we can go. She’s the one in charge, not me, not the other alpha fossils. And I’m glad. Because it means that none of the others look at me and ask what we did to deserve this, or what we can do to fix it. I don’t know if I could look them in the eye and tell them that there’s nothing that will ever change…this.”

“I…I had no idea,” Carnelian tells her earnestly.

“No one does,” Fossil replies as she steps onto the warp pad with her, “because no one cares.”

Carnelian stands there in silence as the two of them are warped back into the hall outside the arena, where Fossil continues, “You know, I’m glad I was born opalized. It’s saved my ass more times than I can count now. Otherwise, they would’ve had me in the muzzle a thousand years ago.”

The quartz soldier arches a brow at her. “You’ve…bitten somebody?”

“Yeah. Bloodstone.”

“You bit that bloodstone and she didn’t muzzle you?” Carnelian gapes disbelievingly, “How did you manage that one?”

“Simple,” Fossil tells her, “I’m opalized, and we were…well, we were fucking. I was into it, so I did what us fossils do. I bit her, right there on the shoulder, and she just purred and flicked me in the nose and told me…” She pauses, then finishes, “Told me that I was being a naughty gem, and I better behave. I can get away with practically anything, you know.”

She exhales as she enters the arena, where she helps herself to Carnelian’s captain chair. “It isn’t so simple for the others.”

Carnelian tries to absorb the wealth of information that the fossil has forced on her, as silent as ever as she stands behind the chair where her lover now sits. “Fossil, I’m…I’m sorry, for what I said.”

“I’m not,” Fossil replies curtly as she swivels around to face her, “You hate fossils. I’m a fossil, General. Gems who think it’s alright to admonish us like pearls are the reason why you’ve seen what you saw today. Fossils aren’t war machines. Fossils are respectable researchers. And if you refuse to see that, and your trainees refuse to see that, and their trainees refuse to see that…then, who will?”

With this said, she rises from the throne-like chair and smooths a wrinkle from her uniform. “I think it’s time for me to leave,” she informs her, “and, this time, I don’t think I’ll be coming back, General.”

Carnelian watches with a throb in her chest as her fossil starts towards the door. Then, before she realizes what she’s done, she has her girthy fingers curled around the slender wrist, pleading silently for her to stay. “Fossil, I am sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix it,” Fossil tells her once more.

“Fossil, I…I respect you,” the quartz soldier tries, “I respect you and I think you’re right. I…I really didn’t mean to upset you today, or any other day, for that matter. I’m sorry. I am.”

Carnelian swallows, then finds it in herself to form the words she hasn’t said to someone in over five thousand years. “Fossil, I love you.”

This stuns them both into silence.

“I…I love you,” the quartz soldier repeats as sincerely as she can and realizes how much she means it, “and I think what I really want now is to be with you. I haven’t wanted something so much since…”

“Since Amethyst,” Fossil finishes for her.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Fossil. I never thought of this as you.”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” she retorts coldly, “I’m just so cute and cuddly, aren’t I? It’s hard to remember that I have a mouthful of terrible teeth when my mouth’s wrapped around your dick, huh?”

“Oh, Fossil…” Carnelian smiles at her fondly. “Don’t ever change.”

Then, the quartz soldier leans down to beckon her into a reluctant kiss. The two of them have shared a dozen kisses by now, but never one such as this. It’s compassionate and sweet, with only a trace of its usual, heated lust, and none of the musky flavor that has usually filled Fossil’s mouth by now.

When Carnelian withdraws, her fingers have wandered to the fragile bone embedded in her lover’s forearm, stroking it lightly, tracing slow circles across its smooth, shimmery surface. “You know, I am a general. I have a lot of power. Maybe I can help your pack…”

Fossil chuckles halfheartedly. “Yes, the General Carnelian is seduced into helping a pack of fossils with the promise of lewd favors.”

The enormous soldier rolls her yellow eyes, her hands rested on her lover’s lips lightly. Then, she scoops her into her broad arms suddenly and carries her out into the hall, to step onto the warp pad and teleport them elsewhere.

Carnelian’s private quarters are so large and luxurious that it stuns the fossil in her arms when she totes her into the front room, where the metallic tiles shine clean and polished, under low lighting that sets a certain mood, settling upon the sparse furniture in a golden glow very unlike the fluorescent lights that glare down overbearingly on the outside world. “Wow…,” Fossil murmurs as she’s carried over to a sofa, surprised when it isn’t hard and metallic underneath her, but soft and warm, “It’s…fabric?”

“Leather,” Carnelian corrects her as she settles down beside her, fingers lingering on her shapely hips.

“What’s leather?” Fossil wonders aloud, but her quartz companion is in no mood for questions right now. She has something else in mind, as evidenced by the tender kisses she begins to trail down her little lover’s jawbone, towards the delicate nape of her striped neck, skin shimmering softly in the low lighting. For a moment, she’s stiff and reluctant, before she threads her fingers into her quartz soldier’s beige hair, tugging lightly.

Carnelian smiles. “I love you.”

“You do, huh?” Fossil retorts, but there’s an underlying tone of playfulness in her rumbly voice, “But, I thought you hated fossils.”

“I used to,” the quartz commander laments as she trails her kisses lower, to nose the neckline of her lover’s uniform aside and press her lips to the space between her palm-sized breasts, her warm, breathy sighs causing her nipples to quickly pebble.

She hears a soft exhale above her, two small, slender hands relocating themselves to her broad shoulders. “What changed, General?”

“Fossils did,” Carnelian tells her as she guides the spandex straps of her black-and-blue uniform down her slender shoulders, baring shimmery stripes and swirls of opalization that curiously encircle her breasts, “Fossils changed.”

Fossil purrs appreciatively and combs her fingers through a heavy strand of tawny hair.

“And I changed, too,” the quartz confesses as she nuzzles her face between her small breasts lovingly, listening to the internal thump and drum of her physical form functioning in a way that is almost human, “Changed when I met you.”

“Cheesy,” Fossil comments, but there’s a smile on her face as she cups Carnelian’s chin and guides her lips up to meet her own, kissing her sweetly. When the soldier shifts, she feels the stiffness that brushes her calf, straining through the thin material of her lover’s uniform. “Someone’s frisky,” she doesn’t hesitate to tease.

“Obviously,” Carnelian retorts, “What did you think I brought you here for? To show you my sofa?”

Fossil blinks at her. “What’s a sofa?”

Carnelian chuckles as she pats one of the cushions underneath them, then scoops her little lover into her powerful arms once more, cradling her like a freshly hatched cub. “C'mon, I think there’s something else I would rather show you.”

The commander carries her into a sizable chamber in the corner of her private quarters, separate from the main corridor. Rooms within one’s private quarters are rare on Homeworld, as there’s no need for separate chambers. There’s even less need for the enormous, satin-laden bed that stands abandoned and unused in the center of the room, beneath the shelter of a silky canopy that casts its soft covers in shadow.

This, Fossil recognizes. “You have a bed? Why? You like sleeping?”

“It isn’t for sleeping,” Carnelian tells her as she shoves the canopy aside and lowers her onto the mattress, rough palms cupping her backside delicately, “It’s for mating.”

“You have a separate room, just for fucking in?” Fossil gapes, thoroughly impressed. And here she was allowing gems to mount her in the middle of the hall, or haphazardly concealed in a closet or behind a curtain somewhere in headquarters!

“Not fucking,” Carnelian corrects her as she crawls onto the bed, the structure heaving beneath her enormous mass, “Mating, Fossil.”

Fossil knows what she’s implying, but she wants clarification. “Mating? Why? You don’t have a mate.”

“I haven’t been in here in over five thousand years,” the quartz informs her, “but, I’m here now.”

Carnelian leans down, kisses her, and sweeps her backwards into the silken folds of the satin sheets, stroking her backside lightly with one enormous, calloused palm. Fossil purrs lightly underneath her, a sound that rumbles in her throat like a snarl, but emerges much more softly. An oversized tongue ventures between her plump lips, which separate willingly to allow the fleshy intrusion to glide across her sharp, serrated teeth daringly. She feels the quartz wince softly as the coppery taste of blood briefly fills both their mouths, before Carnelian pulls away and smiles down at her sweetly. “It’s okay,” she reassures her before she even thinks to fret over it.

Fossil leans in and kisses above her right brow, where the burgundy hide is darker in a single, straight line that runs from her forehead to her cheek. “Tell me about these scars you’ve made for yourself,” she whispers as she reaches for the straps of her lover’s uniform, tugging them down her muscular forearms easily. Then, in a flash of white, the entire uniform vanishes from view.

“They’re reminders,” Carnelian tells her as she nuzzles the space between her neck and shoulder delicately, then reaches down to glide a finger through the slick quickly seeping through the spandex of her uniform. Fossil gasps softly as she rams the base of her hand into her crotch, grinding it into her growing wetness roughly. Reflexively, her hips buckle into the touch, to which the soldier chuckles in satisfaction.

“I was careless and caught a knife through the eye,” Carnelian rumbles as she settles back onto her knees, to gently peel away the fabric that clings to her little lover’s striped body, revealing tawny flesh interlaced with shimmery swirls of earthen opal underneath. As attractive as her companion as, she finds herself unable to focus on little more than the wet slit that is spread before her eagerly, immediately underneath a barbed, blue tentacle that has curled into itself with desire, wound tightly as a spring. For the first time since their initial encounter in the arena, she reaches down and curls her fingers around the shaft almost cautiously. It feels slippery and rubbery in her grasp, writhing and squirming on its own accord as she pumps it unsteadily, barbs catching in her skin lightly.

Fossil is unable to resist a soft moan as she arches into the simple touch. Carnelian is surprised. “Since when do you come undone so easily?” she prompts curiously, but her companion has no response, except to gaze over at her lustfully through half-lidded, ice blue eyes that glimmer softly in the dim lights, “Damn, you’re gorgeous…”

“I know,” Fossil chuckles contentedly, gazing fondly at the much larger, much thicker tentacle that has blossomed from the quartz’s slick folds, spread wide and dripping wetly, secretions shiny on the satin sheets. Something within her stomach lurches excitedly at the sight. “Tell me more about the scars, General.”

Carnelian can’t help but chuckle. “We’re in the middle of a rut, and you want to hear war stories?” She releases the tentacle that writhes between her fingers, which squirms protestingly as it loses contact with her calloused hide. Fossil knows what she wants and rolls over, then rises onto all fours, proudly displaying her shapely hips.

“I have a lot of ‘em on my forearms and thighs, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Carnelian comments as she straddles her, smirking delightedly as she leans over her slender shoulder to eye her mischievously, “since you spend so much time down there, y'know.”

“Why there?” Fossil wonders as she raises her bottom to meet her lover’s waistline.

“They’re easy targets,” the quartz commander replies, before she delves her shaft into her lover’s wetness and effectively replaces her prodding questions with breathy gasps and moans, “Ah…”

“Carnelian…,” the opalized gem exhales contentedly as she feels inch after inch of slippery tentacle fill her, until she feels stretched to her limit and filled to her brim, certain that her lover has reached right into her core in one smooth motion. She bites her lip lightly as she feels the commander withdraw halfway, then shove her length back into her rather roughly - only to slow down and start to press into her gently instead.

“I…want to take it slow this time,” Carnelian tells her.

Fossil arches a brow curiously, smirking knowingly. “Slow? General, this is so unlike you.”

Carnelian answers her with another slow, deliberate thrust, her hips singing a steady rhythm. Fossil is accustomed to their steamy, rampant romps, which often leave her bruised and sore for many days to follow, but never fail to satisfy. Still, this unexpected change in pace isn’t entirely unpleasant; she realizes that, at this speed, she can feel each little bump and ridge that lines her partner’s shaft with every motion, each ripple of energy that flows through her slippery length, each tremor that the slap of their conjoined hips sends through her. It isn’t the rough and heady experience that she’s become so used to, but the sensation of becoming entirely one with another individual. Although she’s unsure if she prefers it, it’s certainly something - something sentimental, something…romantic, even.

Romance has never been on the agenda for her.

Carnelian isn’t the only one who has changed.

“O - Ooh…,” Fossil purrs softly as she closes her eyes and smiles lightly. Yes, there are times when she much prefers the pounding of her quartz lover’s hips into her own, with such force that she’s certain to split in two, with such vigor that her entire body quakes with every mighty thrust - but, right now, this is what she wants.

Carnelian is what she wants, she realizes with a start.

The commander smiles mischievously as she withdraws, then thrusts back into her lover’s warm core with as much care as an individual her size can manage. “Fossil, you ever had cubs?”

“Cubs?” Fossil prompts with an arch of her brow, “No.”

“You ever wanted them?” Carnelian inquires as she starts to thrust harder, the breath she exhales harshly through her chapped lips a sure sign that she’s close to release.

Fossil hesitates, then answers, “Yeah, I have.”

“Good,” the enormous soldier rumbles as she clenches her eyes close, warmth roiling in her depths as she concludes their romp with a final few thrusts. She leans down to ensnare the fossil’s slender shoulder in her blunt teeth as she moans softly and releases within her core, her secretions thick and sticky, distinctly warm within her. Fossil climaxes with her, her tentacle spasming wildly underneath her before it abruptly stiffens and spurts ropes of semen across the satin sheets.

Her teeth are still clenched delightedly, eyes screwed close, when she feels the first distinctive, round lump unexpectedly enter her. Her eyes open abruptly and she gasps softly, “C - Carnelian!”

Fingers spread across her stomach stop her from squirming as a second lump ventures into her womb. It’s closely followed by a third, then a fourth, and finally, a fifth. Carnelian is satisfied by the bulge she feels forming underneath her hand as she holds her lover in place while she places her geodes within her, her teeth still latched onto her now thoroughly bruised shoulder.

When Carnelian withdraws from her, Fossil rolls over hurriedly, to stare down at her stomach disbelievingly. Mere moments later, she can already see the slight bulge where her slender stomach has been filled.

“And there we have it,” Carnelian tells her proudly as she settles down on the mattress and extends a hand to stroke the swollen belly lovingly, “Our very own quartz litter.”

“Quartz?” Fossil prompts, “You know there’s a fifty-fifty chance that they’re going to hatch fossils, right?”

There’s worry in her icy eyes.

But, Carnelian only smiles warmly as she extends an arm across her shoulders to draw her in closer. She knows why there’s so much anxiety and concern in her new mate’s eyes, and she wants to put her worries to rest at last.

“And I’ll love them, anyways.”


End file.
